Secrets
by SparrowinCrimson
Summary: The Bingleys and Darcy are new to the neighbourhood. Lizzie is immediately convinced that they have a secret that they're covering up. She is determined to find out what they're really hiding in that big house before Jane falls completely in love with Charles Bingley and dooms herself to a life of misery. What evil will she find hidden in the web of secrets the family is weaving?
1. Chapter 1

**Secrets**

 **A/N: Just a quick note. I'm reposting this story, so if it seems familiar, that's why. There have been a few changes so I hope you enjoy them! Don't forget to let me know what you think at the end. Thanks for reading! (:**

 **Chapter One**

"Lizzie, we're going to be late!" Jane called to her sister, her long white delicate hands anxiously gripping the rosewood banister. Jane Bennet was often described as the town beauty, the belle of the ball, the loveliest creature; Mrs Bennet's treasure.

With her long white neck held elegantly like a swans, slim figure with a small waist and slender hips, no one dared disagree with any of the former descriptions. Lizzie often teased her sister that it was her long legs and slim figure that had over-ordered the knights in shining armour and not her sweet nature and shy conversation held through deep blue eyes and thick, long lashes.

Perfection was the only word for Jane Bennet.

And perfection also seeped into Jane's obsession with time. Jane Bennet was never late, except of course when accompanied with her younger, much wilder sister, Lizzie.

"One is never late! Everyone else is simply early!" Lizzie declared and slid down the banister theatrically with one arm raised in the air, her nose turned into the air with pompous amusement. As her feet reached the ground with a heavy thump, her lightly freckled nose scrunched up in contemplation.

"Or is it simply, fashionably late? You know, I've never understood that term. How is it _fashionable_ to be late? It's just plain rude if it can be helped," she said as though it was the most important philosophy in the entire world and certainly ignoring the fact that she herself was late. Jane sighed and fixed Lizzie's curls once more.

"You shouldn't slide down the banister. You'll ruin your dress," she scolded lightly. Lizzie scowled and looked down at her attire. A simple sleeveless black dress that molded to her waist and hips before falling into a flowing skirt that cut off two inches above her knees.

"I don't know why I had to wear a dress," she groaned. "Charlotte said she didn't care, as long as I didn't leave her alone at her own Christmas party. I was going to go you know! It's not my fault that last year I forgot." She blinked her wide eyes innocently and Jane giggled while straightening Lizzie's skirt.

"We all know that you didn't forget, Lizzie. We found you wrapped up in your blankie reading T.S Eliot. Honestly, I think Charlotte was more offended than amused," Jane said. The girls shrugged on coats before braving the snowy outdoors. From the frosty glass panes in the door Lizzie watched the snowflakes fall delicately from the sky. Dancing. She always thought they looked like they were dancing, like tiny white ballerina's floating in a jewelry box.  
 _"A cold coming we had of it,_ _  
_ _Just the worst time of the year_ _  
_ _For a journey, and such a long journey:_ _  
_ _The ways deep and the weather sharp,_ _  
_ _The very dead of winter_! **(1)** " Lizzie recited dramatically.

 __ _"_ Oh Jane! How could one dare leave the poetic enticements of T.S Eliot in venture of a party with cramped bodies and thumping music? You can't blame me," Lizzie grumbled and examined the mascara that framed her lively green eyes with dubious scrutiny. Jane squeezed in the mirror beside her and applied one last coat of lip gloss to her pink lips.

"Lizzie, you love snow, parties and dancing. Admit it. You just wanted to avoid a certain somebody," Jane teased. Lizzie immediately jabbed her elbow into Jane's side, glaring ferociously.

Truthfully she only managed to look like an angry kitten.

"Well it's true!" Jane grumbled and rubbed her ribs with a small pout.

"Collins is an idiot," she whispered harshly as if the name was spoken too loudly, the odious little man would suddenly appear.

"Jane! Lizzie! Please take me with you!" Lydia cried desperately, falling to her knees, hands clasped together tightly. Lizzie rolled her eyes and tugged on her red and green scarf. The scarf her mother insisted she wore to remind her of the Christmas spirit. Lizzie thought it was the most ridiculous and hideous item of clothing she'd ever worn, but wore it with humility she did to save her poor mother's nerves.

"Lydia, don't make a nuisance of yourself! This is Jane and Lizzie's party where they will find some lovely young gentlemen," another voice appeared in the doorway.

"Mum, really? We're just going to a Christmas party that will have the same old boring guys we always hang out with," Lizzie said dryly. Mrs. Bennet immediately 'tut-tut'ed her daughter and began to fuss over straightening her eldest daughter's dress.

"Jane darling, how do you bare it with such grace? You're a saint," Lizzie muttered darkly and tugged her scarf harder against her, the course material prickling the soft skin on her neck.

"I don't know why I can't go," Lydia huffed with crossed arms. Her lips were in a small pout that was similar to that of a fish. Lizzie had always thought it look ridiculous on her and went to say so but was cut off by Mrs. Bennet tugging at her hair.

"Mum! Stop it!" she stepped away from her mother's invasive fingers.

"No, no! You hold still. You must be presentable. There are not going to be 'boring old guys' Lizzie. Have you not heard of our new neighbours?" She asked. Lizzie perked up considerably at the mention of new people. "There are two families this winter. Charles and Caroline Bingley, quite rich mind you and a Mr. Darcy! You must snatch them up before the other girls and leave us all to live a humble life in the lower side of Meryton! Mr. Bennet is not going to last forever you know!" Mrs. Bennet crowed.

Lizzie winced at her mother's careless chatter. Her father had recently contracted Haemochromatosis, which had caused his liver to begin to fail. Slowly he was becoming weaker and weaker without a transplant of the vital organ. With his age in consideration, his name was continually pushed further down on the waiting list. Lizzie clung to her father as much as she could with the little time he had left amongst them.

"We're going to be late," Lizzie cut off her mother's endless stream of chatter and tugged Jane into the cold night air, hearing Lydia's last pleas and their mother's last well wishes before the door creaked closed. "Phew. Look at the snow, Jane! Isn't it spectacular?" She spun in smooth circles even with the heels of her shoes plunging deep into the snow.

Jane watched with cautious eyes as her daring sister leapt through the snow and across the slippery road, not quite sure how she never managed to fall and break one of her small limbs.

"It's lovely but please be careful!" She called with a fond laugh, watching Lizzie's curls spin around her faster and faster before she collided with a tall, dark figure.

"Oomph!" Lizzie exclaimed and quickly stumbled back from the strong hands that held her tightly. "I am terribly sorry sir…" her giggles began to cease as she met the eyes of the most gorgeous man she'd seen in her twenty-two years of life. He had a black beanie pulled down over his ears to stop the intrusive chill and dark curls had managed to stray from beneath his head covering. His lips twitched in amusement behind the billowing air blowing from them. Lizzie was sure she detected the signs of dimples on his cheeks and small creases at the corner of his blue eyes.

"Don't slip," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers, that weren't related to the snow landing where her scarf had slipped down. The scarf…Lizzie's blush transformed into a furnace. She'd decided to appease her mother by wearing it only to _literally_ run into the most attractive man she'd ever laid eyes on.

"I won't," she stammered and decidedly widened the gap between their bodies. He nodded solemnly, his amused smile gone, before slipping quietly around her and striding up the street and turning right. Lizzie frowned at the shift and watched him go.

"Who was _he?_ Did he just turn into Charlotte's?" Jane giggled, looping her sister's arm though her own. Lizzie began to laugh and tugged her coat closer to her body. 

"I dare say he did. Only he should have known we were headed there. Who else would roam the streets at this time of night in falling snow on the twenty second of December?" Lizzie frowned again stepping precariously on the ice-covered sidewalk. Jane beside her clung tighter as her shoes began to slip.

Lizzie couldn't say she didn't admire the way Jane walked in heels two inches high and were the width of a toothpick, but she certainly couldn't say it was the brightest idea she'd ever had either.

"Oh Lizzie, don't be silly. He probably didn't want to say anything just incase we weren't invited. He was simply sparing our feelings," Jane soothed. _Of course Jane would_ , Lizzie thought wryly. She allowed her to quietly entertain those thoughts while her own mind galloped in circles trying to see past the oddness of it all. His lips had appeared as though they were struggling to contain a smile but those eyes…well, those eyes she just could not read for the life of her. They had seemed to smile at her but who could be entirely sure?

The Lucas' gate creaked softly in the cold and Lizzie had to give it a hefty shove to clear the snow that had gathered since they'd cleared the path last.

"Oh you're probably right! Besides, who cares? He's just a guy anyway," Lizzie casually said though she couldn't properly dispel those haunting blue orbs from her mind's eye. What had they suddenly turned so _cold_ when they looked at her?

"A very attractive one," Jane giggled elegantly. Yes, elegantly. Lizzie wasn't sure how a giggle could be described as 'elegant'. She'd always associated it was 'girlish' and 'gleeful', but Jane had once again defeated the laws of human nature and giggled _elegantly_.

"Yes, Jane. But we are independent women who rely on no one but ourselves to live our lives, feel beautiful and have fun. Why should they impact us at all? Besides I need to finish my degree before focusing on _them,_ " Lizzie said decidedly. In all honesty that was exactly how she felt about men. She felt that she didn't need them to bolster her existent. They weren't a necessity but simply an added bonus.

"Don't let your mother hear that. You'll be on the market and you won't even know it," Charlotte sidled up slyly and planted an arm around each of the sisters waists in a familiar hug. Lizzie let out a laugh, throwing her head back in amusement.

"I already _am_ on the market, Charlotte," Lizzie said and shrugged off her coat and scarf in the hot house. Colliding bodies had already heated the room to magnificent temperatures.

"Charlotte, I thought you said you were cutting numbers this year?" Jane asked loudly over the thumping music, eyeing the men warily that had already singled her out for their future companion in life. Charlotte gave a guilty grin and threw her hands in the air.

"You know I love a party!" she exclaimed, throwing in a small dance in time with the music pumping through her speakers. Lizzie frowned thoughtfully.

"New speakers?" she asked. Charlotte nodded eagerly.

"Yes! Amazing right? Dad bought them for me as an early Christmas present and, Jane dearest, I simply _had_ to invite everyone. Our new neighbours are here!" she whispered in a hushed voice, close to their ears. Lizzie rolled her eyes at Jane's perked interest.

"Mother will kill us if we come home without at least in introduction. Besides I'm dying to meet the new man of the neighbour-hood," Lizzie winked and Charlotte snorted obnoxiously.

"Uh-huh, Lizzie. This way," she led the sisters by the hand through cramped, dancing bodies. As per usual Charlotte had installed her famous strobe lights and the colours danced and flashed sporadically.

Out of the large lounge room, Charlotte led them to a quieter sitting room where people were casually standing around the alcohol, food and punch tables. The music still managed to crawl its way into the room but it was less compressing on the ears.

"Guys, this is Jane and Lizzie Bennet, the girls I were telling you about. Jane, Lizzie, I'd like you to meet Charles Bingley, his sister Caroline. And this is William Darcy," Charlotte introduced them. Lizzie grinned and shook Charles' hand.

"Charlie," he insisted. Jane blushed as he shook her hand and Lizzie was quickly impressed with his easy wit and ability to compliment people at every opportunity. His sister was another matter. Though they both shared grey eyes, a small smattering of freckles on their nose and thick auburn hair Caroline sent chills down her spine. Where Charlie's eyes were lively and full of fire and passion, Caroline's were hard and cold, like the ice that was stuck to the pavement outside.

"A pleasure. Charlotte's told me so much about you," she murmured with a smile that Lizzie thought was sickly over-done.

"Someone needs to eat a few more candy canes," Lizzie muttered to Charlotte.

Charlotte choked on her drink and Lizzie had to whack her back to help it go down.  
The last one was a surprise to her though. William Darcy. She met his eye once and then let out an amused laugh.

"William Darcy. It's lovely to finally know the name behind the face," she said shaking his hand with a light flush on her cheeks. They were large and warm with just the right amount of callous to them. He wasn't purely an office man but he certainly wasn't a labourer by any means she thought, recognizing the designer jeans that sat comfortably on his hips.

"Lizzie. You didn't slip?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Lizzie shook her head with a smile.

"She's too talented for that," Charlotte interrupted. "Have you two met before?"

"Briefly on the sidewalk," Darcy explained. Lizzie still wasn't sure whether she read amusement behind those clear blue eyes. She briefly wished it was the first and he was simply shy but she couldn't be sure. She banished those thoughts immediately.

"Jane-" Lizzie stopped midsentence and blinked at the empty space where her sister once stood. "I haven't even had anything to drink yet and I'm already imagining my sister is a pot-plant," Lizzie complained, eyeing Mrs. Lucas' prized indoor plant that sat only thirty centimeters away from where Jane had stood.

"Charlie took her to get acquainted with the dance floor," Caroline explained coldly. Lizzie smiled and nodded in understanding.

"Of course. How are you liking Meryton?" Lizzie asked taking a seat next to the unanimated Caroline. She was determined not to judge her before she had a chance to fully understand her perspective. Some small part of Lizzie felt that Caroline didn't have a broad perspective. From what she can see, Caroline was used to high society. She was a city girl, used to her creature comforts, ideologies, rights and rules. Lizzie doubted she would be breaking any ice that night.

"It's quite lovely once you get past the cows. Can you believe there is a _cow_ that lives right next to our house? Unbelievable. I much prefer the city," She sniffed, reaching a perfectly manicured hand to pat her hair, and reassure herself that it was still perfectly aligned. Lizzie raised an eyebrow carefully and struggled to pull back the smile that was twitching at her lips.

" _In the city where the colours run dry_ _  
_ _Or in the country where the colour green is applied_ _  
_ _In the city where there are polluting cars_ _  
_ _Or in the country where you can see the stars,_ ** _(2)_** " Lizzie quoted. It was the only way she knew how to stray from the obscene path of immaturity she had promised her sister she would steer clear of but still allow her own perspective shine through.  
Caroline's eyebrows twitched a moment before she stood, smoothed her short, cream skirt till the wrinkles had faded. 

"Oh I agree, Eliza. The city is much more preferable. I think I'll find some more punch," she smiled plastically and clicked away in her heels.

" _In respect of itself, it is a good_ _  
_ _life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life,_ _  
_ _it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I_ _  
_ _like it very well; but in respect that it is_ _  
_ _private, it is a very vile life_. **(3)"** Another voice spoke. Lizzie's eyes lit up at the verse of her favourite play-write.

"Perhaps Shakespeare's words are to be taken into better consideration when trying to define where one belongs?" Darcy commented. Lizzie laughed and nodded enthusiastically, her heart fluttering unexpectantly when he sent a little smile in her direction. Okay, maybe she _had_ imagined his cold look earlier.

"Why of course. Shakespeare was certainly onto something but I think he also meant that people should certainly try to fit in before they arrange an opinion of the matter. Touchstone had of course been in the Forest of Arden long before he formed his opinion. Our delightful friend on the other hand has yet to be in Meryton a week," Lizzie argued and Darcy nodded thoughtfully, thumb strumming his cleanly shaven chin slowly. His gaze strayed purposefully to where Caroline was using a handkerchief to clean the punch ladle before she used it to fill her cup.

"Certainly. But perhaps we should allow Caroline a chance to make up her mind," Darcy said softly. Lizzie's eyes sparked and a frown formed on her brow, drawing her dark eyebrows closer together. Darcy had managed to baffle her. So far in their extremely short acquaintance she was never sure whether he was making fun of her, laughing with her or silently condemning her. His words about Caroline had made her feel like he was condemning her but the amusement that Lizzie thought she found in those impossibly blue eyes made her reconsider the accusation entirely.

"Does your friend always throw parties this big?" Darcy asked after a calculating silence. Lizzie nodded, absently twirling a dark curl around her finger. She watched him from the corner of her eye. He seemed uncomfortable. His fists clenched every so often as his eyes darted around the room. A divot appeared on his brow after a moment. Was that a disapproving look?

"I've always wondered what her obsession with strobe lights is," Lizzie commented after another awkward moment of silence between the two. Inside Lizzie was silently harassing her sister to return with Charlie, hoping to heavens that her telepathic communication would get through without interference.

Darcy hadn't responded to her comment but was rapidly typing away at his phone. Lizzie raised an eyebrow coyly.

"You know people might have epilepsy," she said continuing her thought, waiting for a reaction. "Imagine what it would be like to have epilepsy. Some times I wish I could have it just for a day to see what it's like but then I remembered the poor old coote who used to live next door and I just feel sad for them all," Lizzie sighed, watching out of the corner of her eye at the tall man seated as far from her as possible on the bench, fingers smoothly flying over the shining screen.

Darcy didn't reply again but abruptly stood from the chair, pushing it back slightly in the process and striding away into the thronging masses of people. His dark hair and designer jeans were faster away from her than a galloping horse. Lizzie snorted in dark amusement. Arrogant man. What was _that_ about?

"Well, Lizzie, whatever did you do to Will Darcy?" Charlotte asked with a hiccup that sloshed her drink over the edge and onto the expensive wooden floor.

"I have no idea. I'm beginning to believe he's a conceited city-"

"Lizzie!" Jane gushed, cutting off the insult forming around Lizzie's scowling lips.

"Lizzie, I've just been having the most amazing time. Charlie is just the most charming man," Jane blushed and spoke with her eyes to her feet. Lizzie and Charlotte exchanged amused glances before guiding the blushing blonde to the punch table.

"Oh, Jane, Elizabeth, Charlotte. Have you seen William?" Caroline gripped Lizzie's arm tightly, nails digging into her soft skin as though Lizzie was the reason for her missing Darcy. Had she been? Had she really been that repulsive that he couldn't stand her presence?

"He left a few minutes ago. He didn't say why," Lizzie said gritting her teeth and yanking her arm away from the woman. Caroline sniffed before spinning on her heel and storming away, those icy eyes brewing into a snowstorm.

"She's such an awful snob," Lizzie snapped, eyeing the red marks on her arm. Charlotte giggled uncontrollably, the effects of the alcohol finally seeping into her brain. Jane's jaw dropped and her eyes nearly popped from her skull.

"Lizzie! She is simply worried for her friend. She didn't mean to hurt your arm and her brother is so delightfully nice it's impossible for his sister to be horrid," Jane admonished, daintily taking a sip of her punch, little finger in the air as if sipping tea.

Lizzie rolled her eyes and crushed her empty plastic cup in her palms. Even Jane was stretching it this time. Lizzie could see the self-obsession and hate in the woman's eyes and knew that she had intentionally dug those nails a little deeper than necessary. Only she didn't know why. What had she done this time?

"Ladies! I'm sorry Darcy left so soon. Urgent matters called I'm afraid," Charlie said apologetically, joining the group of women he had already deemed his friends. Especially Jane Bennet. But Lizzie's eyes narrowed at Charlie's apology. Urgent matters or simply a bout of 'uncivilized, uneducated country nobodies'?

"Not a trouble, Darcy," Charlotte hiccupped. Her face puckered for a moment and her lips formed an 'o' shape before patting his shoulder. "I mean Charles Bingley. Not a trouble, Charles Bingley. Charles Bingley have you seen the fairies?" Charlotte asked pointing outside the frosty window that offered a view of the dancing snow. All three faces frowned out the window until Lizzie laughed gleefully.

"Charlotte means the fairy lights," she explained, pointing to the lights strung from the roof in loops and then wrapped in perfect spaces of three inches around the marble pole at the edge of the balcony.

"They're delightful! How many drinks exactly have you had?" Charlie asked hesitantly, his eyes wandering from her bloodshot eyes to the cup in her hand.

"Not enough!" Charlotte announced and marched back to the bar.

"She certainly does like a party," Charlie commented after the three watched in amusement at Charlottes teetering steps and uncontrollable giggles.

"You have no idea," Lizzie smirked and threw her crumpled cup into a waste basket.

"Oooohhh! Nice shot! My turn. Grab those empty cups. First to ten."

Lizzie believed Charlie and her where going to be _very_ good friends.

 **XSparrowinCrimsonX**

1\. Extract from 'Journey of the Magi' - T.S Eliot.  
2\. Extract from 'Romance in the Moonlight' – Nicole Buckland  
3\. Extract from 'As You Like it' Act 3 Scene 2 – Shakespeare


	2. Chapter 2

**Secrets**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot**

"I regret it. I regret everything," Lizzie moaned and buried her head deeper into her pillow, pulling it tight against her pounding skull. Lizzie had stayed at the party into the small hours of the morning. She couldn't remember why she had thought following Charlotte's drinking example had been a good idea, but she had. In fact, she may even have surpassed her friend's example. Lizzie groaned at the thought and wiggled deeper under the covers.

Soft, winter light was seeping into her darkened room from behind the curtains and she wasn't ready for the day to begin just yet. She'd had a great night after Darcy had left and she had drowned herself on too many of the fancy Christmas cocktails Charlotte's bartender had made. What had they been? Red Rudolphs. She finally understood why his nose had been so red and large and why the other reindeer laughed at him. She remembered dancing and laughing and leaning against Jane whispering teasing words about Charlie Bingley who only left her side to fetch her another drink.

Of course she was _thrilled_ at the attention the good-look, well-to-do lawyer had been lavishing upon her sister. She resolutely refused to acknowledge the slightly jealous pang in her chest. Not for Bingley himself of course. She would need someone with a deeper passion that Bingley's easy-going, breezy nature.  
The attention itself though, the prospect of finding someone she could spend forever with was something she longed for.

Lizzie would not openly admit that to just anyone. She would rarely admit it to herself for that matter. Her Father had always valued and encouraged Lizzie's desire for independence in making her own decisions, caring for herself, improving her education and most importantly caring for others. As Lizzie had grown up she had seen the relationship between her mother and her father and realised that her Mother did not make important decisions about the house, investments, and the family. She did not work, she rarely had a sensible word to say to her Father and this partnership between the two had somehow blackened the nature of relationships.  
She did not want to have the same kind of relationship as her parents but did not know how to create a relationship that was any different.

A partnership. Equal playing fields. Did they even exist?

"Lizzie?" a soft voice whispered. Lizzie screwed her eyes shut tight. The door creaked open in the frosty morning air and light footsteps made their way closer to her bed.

"Lizzie, are you awake yet?" Jane asked tentatively. Lizzie tensed waiting for her to pull back the covers. She peered with one eye open through a whole in the covers and groaned.

"Yes, but I wish I wasn't. How could you let me do this to myself, Jane? You're meant to be my wise, guiding older sister who keeps me on the path of righteousness and…oh is that coffee? You're an angel."

She snatched the steaming mug from Jane's hands and leaned back against a red velvet pillow.

Jane watched her with a wry expression, her blue eyes showing only the slightest hint of sympathy.

"It's not my fault. You did this to yourself. No one on this earth could ever make you change your mind about anything."

"Not even a man!" Lizzie nodded in agreement. Jane sighed and rolled her eyes.

"We'll see about that," Jane said and Lizzie opened her mouth to argue her case. She had a number of reasons listed in order of importance as to why a man could never make her change her mind but Jane gave her no time to reiterate that very important list. "You need to get up or we'll be late."

"Late? Late for what?" Lizzie wrinkled her button nose in confusion. She wondered why she always did this. There was rarely an occasion where she remembered she had plans. She had a moment of inner gratitude that the majority of her social interactions occurred with Jane, the walking monthly planner.

"Oh Lizzie, we're meeting the Bingleys for coffee, remember? Charlie wanted to get to know more people in the neighbourhood better so Charlotte and you suggested that we get a coffee today," Jane stood up in amused exasperation and opened Lizzie's closet and begun rummaging through the piles of clothes laying on the floor.

Lizzie possessed almost no patience for hanging or folding her clothes. Who had time for that? There were hundreds upon hundreds of pages that needed her attention. She had no time for laundry.  
Jane, the willowy angel, had learnt to ignore the twitch in her fingers to reorganise her wilder sister's wardrobe. Instead she settled on a forest green sweater dress, dug a little further to find some thick black stockings, black boots and tossed them at her sister.

Lizzie had still made no response but suddenly let out a howl of laughter, drained the last of her coffee and jumped out of bed with a burst of eagerness.

"Charlie Bingley. Charlotte, me, you, Charles Bingley."

"Yes Lizzie…" A hazy image of Charlie leading Jane onto the dance floor for a slow song, his hand guiding her on the small of her back through the crowds of people, his eyes never leaving hers when she spoke, his eagerness to anticipate her needs…A drink, some fresh air. Some fresh air. How _long_ had those two had some 'fresh air' on the swinging chair next to the outdoor heater, a woolly blanket across their laps? A wicked grin lit Lizzie's face.

"Are you sure Charlotte and I should be there? I'm _positive,_ dear sister, that man is already half in love with you. We'll only slow the process down," Lizzie chortled and slid the dress over her head as Jane blushed a delicate pink from her ears down to her toes.

"Don't be ridiculous, Lizzie."

"It's true! I've never seen a man more _amoureux,_ as the French say _,"_ Lizzie fluttered her eyelashes dramatically and looked up through her lashes at her blushing blonde sister before hopping about the room to pull her leggings on.

"I wouldn't give two pennies to hear what the French say about it," Jane commented loftily and rearranged her wavy hair in the mirror on Lizzie's cluttered dressing table.

"Jane." Lizzie plopped onto the chair, her freckled nose appearing next to her sister's face, meeting her eyes in the reflection with a frank look.

The two were barely similar in appearance. Jane's blue, round eyes and Lizzie's green almond shaped eyes. Jane's fair skin and Lizzie darker from the sun. Jane had a rounder, softer face with lovely cheekbones where Lizzie's had more edges to her features. By no means was Lizzie unattractive. It was a commonly agreed upon remark that both sisters held their own kind of beauty but Lizzie still felt that next to her sister's golden angelic features she was dull and common.

Today she did not notice the differences though. Her eyes were bright with a teasing mirth that Jane was trying to avoid.

"Jane, the man wouldn't leave your sight all night unless it was to get you a drink. He's charming, a gentleman, not to mention _good looking_. They are a rare breed. Stop denying your love for one another," Lizzie said grinning cheekily at Jane's delicate frown. She smashed a kiss on her cheek, swept on some make up and smeared her lips with Chap Stick to brace them for the cold outside.

Everyone knew everyone in Meryton. Consequently, everyone knew everyone who was new in Meryton. It was therefore no surprise to Lizzie, Jane and Charlotte that curious eyes darted, wandered and openly stared at their small group huddled on the plush velvet lounges that occupied the back corner of a popular café in Meryton Square.

"I'm a lawyer. I work for my Father's firm in London that is tied to Darcy's company," Charlie was explaining as they sat there sipping on their various hot drinks. A regular cappuccino, two caramel macchiatos, a hot chocolate and a decaf soy vanilla latte at 120 degrees.

Lizzie was intrigued by anyone that put that much thought into his or her coffee order. One eyebrow had shot up as Caroline finished and squirted pomegranate scented hand sanitizer between her palms. Caroline's eyebrow rose steadily in a mirrored response and said "Do you know how much fat is in full cream milk? And honestly the caffeine will dry out your skin, Janey. You should switch to decaf."

'Pretentious' was the only word that came to mind when Lizzie had heard that. What had she been thinking when she asked them all for coffee? Charlotte had deflected the conversation elsewhere by asking what the Bingley siblings did for a living.

"Darcy has a company?" Lizzie's ears perked back up. She was curious about this fellow with the blue eyes and the emergency at a Christmas party. One that didn't warrant a civil conversation or a polite goodbye…

Charlie was nodding his head enthusiastically, "Yes, yes, it was his father's company originally but Darcy became CEO when he past on a few months back. It's one of the most successful marketing companies in England and ol' Darce is managing it swimmingly despite the unexpected promotion…" He continued to talk about the partnership between their two companies but Lizzie was thinking about something else. She had stopped listening when she had heard that Darcy had lost his father. She wondered what had happened and wondered how he had coped. How he was _still_ coping. The image of her own father floated across her mind and a mixture of emotions shot through her all at once.

Fear of losing her own father, sympathy for the blue-eyed man who had lost his, a twinge of sorrow for her reaction to his disappearance last night and then intrigue as she thought more deeply about his switch of character after receiving a message. He had been charming enough up until that moment.

"Lizzie. Lizzie?" Lizzie blinked in surprise as all eyes turned to her curiously. She relaxed the grip she had on her coffee mug and fought back a furious flush by replacing it with a laugh.

"I'm sorry. I drifted off for a moment. What was the question?"

"Charlie was just asking what you did," Jane answered with a half smile. The other half of her expression was concern but to Lizzie's relief she did not express it.

"Well at the moment I'm tutoring high school English and I'm studying a Bachelor of Arts majoring in English Literature…"

A snort escaped Caroline as she said "What in heavens name are you going to do with _that_?"

Lizzie's skin grew hot but she tried to coolly meet Caroline's perfectly lined and accented grey eyes.

"I haven't decided yet but I think I want to get into publishing. I'm only studying part-time though. I have a final year of study to complete," Lizzie said and tried not to get fidgety. It was the very question that many people asked her. How was she meant to make a career of English literature? Secretly she wished to write her own book some day but she hadn't let any one but Jane and Charlotte in on that aspiration yet.

"I think it sounds wonderful. You should come to London when you finish. There's a publishing company that our firm is in association with and I could definitely give a recommendation for you," Charlie said helpfully, his usual cheer lifting the spirits of all those feeling awkward about where the temperature of the conversation had dropped.

"Thank you," Lizzie mused and eagerly passed the batten of conversation back to the others. She listened as Charlotte described her job as a nurse and had everyone in fits of laughter over stories from the nursing home. She heard Jane explain to Caroline that she had graduated from university two years ago with a teaching degree and was teaching a kindergarten class and she listened with amusement and an amount of irritability as Caroline turned up her nose and explained that she had her MBA from Cambridge but hadn't felt the need to work as of yet.

The woman apparently spent her time attending events of the rich and famous, sponsored by her fabulously cashed-up Pa and was on the prowl for the next rich eligible bachelor to pass by so that she could snatch him up and never work another day in her life but still be dripping in diamonds.

Lizzie felt enormously irritated by this. She had always wondered about women who thought like this. It felt like an insult to all women around the globe. Especially to the ones that defied the odds and worked their butts up the male dominated chains of business. The women who had _spunk_. Caroline was just your regular gold-digger.

Lizzie soon realized that the group had decided to quickly show the Bingley's around the square and she scrambled to pull her coat on and catch up.

"Did Darcy know he was invited to coffee?" Lizzie heard Jane ask.

"Yes he did but unfortunately he had some errands to run. I'm hoping he'll be able to join us next time?" There was a question to Charlie's answered and a look that he through Jane that he _desperately_ hoped there would be a next time.

Jane smiled sweetly at him and they continued their conversation, Jane pointing out important landmarks around the square.

"I'm just going to duck into the pharmacy, I'll catch up," Lizzie nudged Charlotte who shot her a furious glance at being left with Caroline. Lizzie offered a wink in acknowledgement, pulled her coat closer and made a beeline for the yellow sign across the street.

She had a prescription to fill for her father and her head ducked down as she double-checked that it was in her bag. Her fingers fumbled around her keys and phone and then she smacked into something. Or rather _someone_.

"I really hope this is not how we will meet every time we see one another," A familiar voice commented with amusement. Heat shot through Lizzie's body as two large hands gripped her shoulders to stop her from toppling backwards. Her eyes gradually grew wider as her gaze moved from the man's shoes, past his dark jeans, grey coat, black scarf and into the brilliant blue orbs of William Darcy.

"I am so sorry! I just wasn't watching…again….My mind was completely in a different space….Are you…I didn't hurt you? You're okay?" Lizzie fumbled out an incoherent string of words and internally screamed. Why did this man suddenly make her nervous?

He gave her a small smile and removed his hands from her shoulders. Lizzie felt the cold instantly replacing where they had been and sighed in relief. She was completely confused by her reaction to him.

"I think I should be the one asking if I hurt you. You are tiny," he mused and Lizzie imagined that his eyes were calculating how tall she really was. She, in return, tried to calculate how tall _he_ was as a way to distract her from the questions tumbling around her mind.

"You didn't say goodbye last night," she suddenly blurted out. She refused to feel embarrassed and made note that Darcy's fists clenched for a brief moment at the comment before relaxing again.

"I'm sorry," he said softly and shuffled his feet. "You must think me terribly rude. Something came up that I had to take care of."

Lizzie nodded slowly at the allusive answer and watched him silently until his blue eyes met hers again. She couldn't read what was there but she felt as though they were silently hoping she wouldn't ask.

"Was it work related?" she persisted. For some reason she felt this tug to find out what had happened. Something niggled at her mind. She wanted to _know_ everything but she didn't know why.

"You could say that,"

"You could? So it was?"

"Possibly."

"Does that mean it wasn't?"

"Also possibly," Darcy answered and she frowned at him.

"Do you ever give a straight answer?"

"Do you always as so many questions?"

"Absolutely," Lizzie sniffed and sent him a glare at his amusement. She hadn't made any progress with this mysterious man. She tried another tactic.

"Do you have any bodies in your basement?"

"Uh, no. No bodies."

"Disfigured animals? Babies? A murder weapon you don't want anyone to find? I would suggest burning that by the way," Lizzie interrogated. Her green watched his slowly fill with delighted amusement until he let out a chuckle and he tugged his beanie further over his ears as a small wind picked up and blew across the square.

"Thanks for the tip but I'm afraid not. You'll have to find your murderer somewhere else," he said. Lizzie squinted her eyes up at him and then a blush slowly filled her cheeks. She must sound absurd. Her mind was always filled with mysteries and convoluted theories abut people. The poor man was probably just trying to enjoy his holiday without people snooping about his life.

"So you're just in Meryton for the holidays?" Lizzie questioned suddenly feeling a little shameful at her impertinent line of questioning.

She thought she saw Darcy tense for a moment before he answered. She made not of it but refused to question it.

"Yes. The Bingleys and I decided to escape the city for a quiet Christmas break. Meryton seemed like a quiet 'out of the way' place to do that," he explained. Lizzie watched and pondered his answer. He was a company CEO at Christmas time. Wasn't that the busiest time of the year for marketing companies? She supposed that CEO's needed a Christmas break as well but to her it still seemed odd.

"Well I hope you enjoy your visit. How long will you be in Meryton?" She kept her tone light and briefly remembered that Darcy had just lost his father a few months before. She burned to ask him about it but was determined to keep the conversation light from now. Maybe he needed time to grieve?

"I'm not sure yet. We have no certain plans," Darcy shrugged casually and his eyes began to drift around the square, suddenly aware of all the people rushing about, trying to finish their Christmas shopping before the shops closed tomorrow evening. It was Christmas Eve Eve. Lizzie was certain they needed to add that to the holiday.

His phone pinged loudly and startled the both of them.

"I should get going," he suddenly said. Lizzie blinked in surprise, her mind drifting off _again_. She nodded furiously, a blush on her face, hoping that he had not noticed.

"Of course. I'm sorry I, uh, ran into you again," Lizzie laughed lightly and brushed a curl from her face. Darcy smiled and nodded before touching her shoulder in acknowledgement and saying, "I hope I see you soon."

Lizzie nodded goodbye and quickly ducked into the pharmacy. She sighed in relief and decided that the whole exchange had been confusing. He _seemed_ like a nice enough guy. Handsome, rich, a _gorgeous_ smile and boy that coat fit him well. There was something about him though that seemed aloof, like he wasn't really a part of the same world as her. Not high, not mighty, just detached. She couldn't' place her finger exactly on what it was but she was certain his inability to answer a question was a part of it.

She filled her father's prescription, chatted in a friendly way with the old pharmacist and left again to find the others.

They were waiting for her across the street on a park bench. Jane and Charlie's heads were close together and Charlotte was having a strained conversation with Caroline.

"Sorry this took so long! I bumped into Darcy and said help," Lizzie announced and stood in front of them all. "There's something about him that I just don't get."

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked quickly, her eyes piercing into Lizzie's.

For once Lizzie didn't seemed to notice. She frowned and scrunched up her nose.

"I'm not sure," she mused and Charlie gave an easy laugh.

"Darcy is no mystery man. He is a very private guy though. It's tough work getting to know him but he's that best friend a person could have."

Charlie's acknowledgement placated Lizzie for now but there was a niggling question at the back of her mind that she mulled over.

Why on her had her skin _burned_ when he had touched her? She'd been wearing a coat and she had felt it…

She shrugged away the thought for now and threw herself into getting to know the Bingely's as they walked back to their car.

For now she would be content with the knowledge that they were good people. She would unfold their mystery another day. A day that wasn't Christmas Eve Eve.

 **XSparrowinCrimsonX**


End file.
